


still the same

by teenagegothintegrity (not_offended)



Category: Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Vampire Alan, Vampires, its not sexual but like, sams not exactly down to clown, should i tag this non con?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 08:42:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16059557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_offended/pseuds/teenagegothintegrity
Summary: Sam's not expecting company when he gets home from work.





	still the same

Sam frowns when he sees the door of his bedroom open. “Edgar,” he calls. “Can't let me know when you're coming over?” He pushes the door open further, starting to say something about being tired from work, but the words die on his lips when he sees that there's a different Frog sitting on his bed.

Alan watches him freeze in the doorway, the corner of his mouth tilting up. He looks the same. Sam knew that if he ever saw him again, he would look the way he had before, would always look like the 19 year old he had been when he was given the blood, but somehow it's still a shock. The same wrinkless face, the same dark hair hastily pushed out of the same heavily lidded dark eyes. The same eyes that seem to bore into Sam, equal parts frighteningly unknown and comfortingly familiar. 

“You never tried to find me,” Alan says, a hint of accusation in his voice. “Not even when I was still half.” 

Sam doesn't know what to say. It's true; he didn't come after him. He didn't want to see his friend like this, didn't want to see a monster wearing Alan's, walking and talking like it was still him. He knew, despite every promise he had made when they were younger, that he wouldn't be able to do what needed to be done if he had found him. He knew that if he ever crossed paths with Alan, Sam would be the one that didn't walk away. 

“I understand,” Alan says, to Sam's surprise. He smiles lopsidedly and taps his temple. “I can hear you.”

“Listen, Al, I don't know what you're here for-" Alan stands, cutting off Sam's falsely calm words. 

“Don't lie, Sam, you know why I'm here.” 

Sam's breath catches in his throat as Alan comes closer. Edgar would be ashamed of him, not doing anything to stop this, to fight, to save himself. It's going to destroy him when he finds out that Sam's dead. 

Alan frowns, reaching out to squeeze Sam's arm comfortingly. It's strange, Sam thinks, for Alan to be doing the comforting when he's also the one that will be doing the killing. “Edgar will understand soon enough.” He pauses, listening to Sam's racing pulse. “You'll help him understand.” 

“Wait,” Sam says, still sounding terrified, but also curious. “You're not going to…” 

“I'm not here to kill you, Sam,” Alan confirms. “At least, not completely.” 

“You're not mad at me?” 

Alan cups Sam's face in both hands. “I told you, I understand why you stayed away. It's what I would do, if it had been you. But I missed you.” 

The display of affection brings Sam back to the way things were before any of this happened. He misses Alan so much. He misses threading their fingers together in the safety of his house or the shop, misses kissing him in front of Edgar and listening to him complain about not wanting to see his brother sucking face, misses playing with his hair while he lays his head in Sam's lap. 

But things are different now. Alan's hands are cold, and Sam is afraid. He's never been afraid of Alan before, and he doesn't want to be.

“You won't be,” Alan promises. “You'll never be afraid of anything ever again.” 

Sam doesn't ask if it's going to hurt. There's only one thing he wants to know. “Will I still be me?” His voice cracks, and he hopes he doesn't cry. He wants to go out with his dignity in tact, at the very least.

Alan pulls him down into a kiss. He may not have every ounce of empathy he had as a human, but he doesn't want to see Sam cry. It'll make him cry, and he would like to maintain his current illusion of being badass.

But he doesn't really know how to answer Sam's question. Will he still be Sam? Is Alan still Alan? He doesn't really know. He doesn't feel like a different person, but he knows he's not quite the same. The old Alan wouldn't be here right now, about to turn Sam. The old Alan would've done his best to off himself before it came to this. Then again, the old Alan had friends, had a family, had people that he could turn to and be with. The old Alan wasn't alone, wasn't empty and cold. He was a weird, blunt kid that pretended to be emotionally stable despite being a frequent crier with no faith in himself. But at least he had felt needed, felt loved and appreciated by the people in his life. Edgar and Sam were always there for him, but so was Sam's mom, and his weird grandpa, and even Star after they got over the initial awkwardness. 

Some of that, he'll never get back. But he can have Sam, and one day he'll have Edgar too. 

“Do you think I'm still me?” He asks in lieu of an answer. 

“I don't know,” Sam whispers. “Don't do this, Alan. Please.” 

Alan looks up at Sam for a long moment, memorizing the way he is right now. The sound of his heartbeat, the color in his cheeks, the softness in his eyes. His Sammy. 

And then slowly, gently, he tilts Sam's head to the side. He moves a hand down to the other side of his neck, puts an arm around his waist. Sam's hands go to his shoulders, like he's going to try to push him off, but he knows that Alan is much too strong for him to fight off. Sam makes a small, frightened sound when Alan presses his lips to the thin skin of Sam's exposed neck, savoring the smell of him, his fear, his excitement. 

“Al,” Sam chokes out, and Alan shushes him.

“Close your eyes, Sammy,” he tells him, and then he bites.


End file.
